Kimi Wa Petto
by xfb490
Summary: A homeless Matt gets taken in by a wealthy but lonely Alfred. Only there's a catch Al keeps referring to Matt as his pet! While Matt is thankful to have a place to live, the situation is still a bit odd to him. Can the two come to terms with their pasts?
1. Chapter 1

Matthew shivered against the New York winter chill. He had tripped earlier and ripped a hole in his only sweatshirt leaving him with little protection against the elements. His stomach growled and he let out a groan of frustration. It's probably been about four days since he last had a meal. He liked to think he was above begging but at this point he wasn't so sure.

He could see how people looked at him. A bum. Homeless. They most likely assumed he was a drug addict or an alcoholic. Matt shivered again. He may have dabbled in marijuana when he was younger but why would a homeless person want a drug that gave him the munchies? But that wasn't the cause of his situation regardless.

A woman and her daughter walked by, Matt offered the little girl a small smile and she waved back. Her mother tugged on her arm and made her walk faster. Matt sighed, he wasn't diseased nor was his predicament contagious. The girl broke free of her mother's grip and ran back to him, pigtails bouncing.

"Mommy says you should get a job but daddy always says that there are no jobs anymore so here, I wanna help." Matt almost cried as she handed him a few dollars out of her pocket, "I was gonna buy a dolly but I think you need it more."

She smiled widely again before her mother marched over and carried her away from him, berating her loudly about all the horrible things about 'people like him.'

He looked at the bills in his hand, four crumpled singles. One had a smiley face doodled on it and he wondered if she drew it. If he stuck to fast-food, this would be more than enough to buy him a meal. His stomach groaned in protest. He had no taste for fast-food but he literally could not afford to be picky.

Matt slowly stood up. Between the weather and his diet he was very weak, with every step the world spun a bit faster and a bit more violent. No wonder people thought he was a drunk. He had to stop after only five steps. Breathe, he told himself, breathe. When he opened his eyes again the spinning had mostly subsided.

Slowly, he kept moving forward. McDonald's was only down the street and even if he didn't like the food, his mouth was already watering. His mind was filled with thoughts of fries with gravy but that wasn't really a New York thing so he'd settle for packeted ketchup.

When he arrived he was instantly thankful for the heating system. It almost made him want to shed his sweatshirt but he would rather be overheated now so when he goes back outside it won't be as bad. Children were screaming and running amuck as their parents quietly finished off their meals.

Matt stood in line and stared at the menu. How he wished that the dollar menu hamburger looked like it did in the picture, but he knew differently. When it was his turn to order he stuttered his way though saying two dollar menu hamburgers. The previously annoyed looking cashier looked increasingly angered with each stutter. He handed her two of the four crumbled bills, but kept the one with the smiley face on it, and shrunk back a little as she forcefully placed the two burgers on the tray.

He picked up the tray and practically ran away from the girl behind the counter. He sat in a corner booth and quietly unwrapped one of his didn't smell good or look all that appetizing but it was food. From his seat he could hear a customer ordering what seemed like everything on the menu. Matt wished he had that kind of money to spend, not that he would be spending it on fast-food to begin with, but it was a nice dream really.

He forced down the remnants of his first burger and was contemplating saving his second for later when a large drink was placed on his table.

"Here ya go! I saw you didn't order a drink with your meal and thought you might be thirsty! Who doesn't order a drink with their burgers! Need something to wash it down with, don't you?"

Matt blinked up at him, was today help a stranger day and no one told him? Not that anyone would tell him. The man held a tray in each hand, both with mountains of food on them and Matt wondered how he held the drink.

"Thank you," he replied meekly.

The man grinned, "No problem!" He shifted on tray to rest on his arm and slapped Matt on the back, sending him into a coughing fit that the man didn't seem to notice, "What are friends for?"

As the man walked away Matt wondered when they became friends. Hell, they didn't even know each other's names! He was grateful for the drink nonetheless, even if it was too syrupy and unnecessarily sugared. Matt took a few sips of the drink and decided to save the rest for later. He put the wrapped hamburger into his sweatshirt's pocket and head to the bathroom drink in tow.

He placed the drink on the sink and washed the dirt off of his hands. He realized that he should have done that before eating but figured it didn't make that much of a difference now. His reflection showed a dirty face, messy hair, and dull eyes. Deciding he could make a little difference in his appearance, he wet a paper towel to clean off his face and attempted to straighten his hair. One curl wouldn't stay down but it was better than the mess it was before. His eyes were still lifeless but he didn't know what to do about that.

When he exited the bathroom he noticed that the man with the mountains of food was gone. Maybe he had to go back to school, Matt thought, he was dressed like a teenager and Matt was almost positive it was Wednesday. Besides, no one could eat all that food that quickly.

Matt left McDonald's and was immediately cold again. The water on his hands and face left over from his little wash didn't help much. He wiped at his face with his sleeve and stuck his hands in the sweatshirt pocket. He forgot the drink inside but didn't want to risk looking desperate for going back and getting it even if he was.

There was a man around the corner from where Matt usually slept who would come and give Matt coffee on his breaks. He wasn't working today so Matt was lucky to get anything to drink. He trudged back to his spot, his stomach growling in protest that he didn't eat enough but also that what he ate was crap. He squeezed himself tight, trying to make it stop.

He used to be built very well and eat more than the daily recommendation of calories. Every day he would go to the ice rink and burn most of them off. He had muscle mass and maybe a bit of chub around the edges. Now he was mostly skin. Nothing remotely hinted that there used to be muscle on this body. But that was years ago.

The alley he stayed in was narrow and homed two other men who bickered constantly but refused to move away from each other. Secretly Matt enjoyed their company, the other voices kept him from going crazy. When he got back he realized that he could have gotten something for them as well. He split his remaining burger into thirds and shared the remainder of his meal. They were grateful and offered to share with him next time. He knew they were good for it.

Night fell and snow began to fall with it. Matt held himself tightly trying to keep some semblance of warmth with him. Suddenly there was another body in front of his.

"You look like a wet dog" the man laughed jovially. Matt tried to hide under his sweatshirt but the man squatted down to make eye contact with him.

"Come be my pet!"


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains. In order to escape it, Matt pulled the blanket up to cover his eyes. Ten more minutes, he wanted to whisper, ten more minutes of this wonderful dream. The dream was so warm and comfortable and smelled vaguely of hamburgers. But the dream faded out and soon Matt found himself fully conscience and fully disappointed.

And confused. Very confused. For one, he was warm. He hasn't been warm in months, not since fall ended and even his Canadian blood couldn't keep him warm. For two, he was seeing blue. He was fairly certain his sweatshirt, the only thing he had to use for a blanket, was red. For three, he was comfortable. This definitely wasn't his usually sleeping spot because he knew cardboard was never this soft, no matter how disillusioned you were.

Slowly he pulled the blanket off his head. A couch, he realized, he was on a couch. He bounced in his seat a bit, testing it. A comfortable couch. If it's been months since he's been warm than it has to have been a year or so since he's been on a couch this comfortable.

The smell of hamburgers from his dream did not fade in his consciousness. Someone was cooking hamburgers and it was only, he looked around and the DVD player signified 8:43, it was only 8:43 AM! Who in their right mind made burgers for breakfast. Part of Matt wanted to go find the culprit and berate him for having such unhealthy eating habits. Another part of him desperately wanted to eat said burger, he figured that was his stomach speaking. Most of him wanted to curl up and go back to sleep and wake up outside with his two neighbors.

He sat cross-legged on the couch and wrapped the blanket securely around him. Who ever took him here stole his shoes. Matt glanced down. They had also taken the majority of his clothes, his sweatshirt was missing along with the shirt he wore under it. The thief kindly replaced it with a long-sleeved shirt with an American flag on it.

Matt let himself fall over to lay down. Unfortunately he overestimated the width of the couch and fell right off it and onto the remote that was lazily left on the ground. The television flickered on and the sounds of cartoons filled the house. Matt panicked, of course the TV was on the highest volume, and if this wasn't the highest volume he didn't know how anyone could listen to it louder. He fumbled for the remote but when he had it in his hands it just had so many buttons. He clicked the first button that resembled a down arrow. He changed the channel, now the news was on.

He studied the remote for a few seconds before common sense kicked in, the power button was usually at the top of the remote. He finally turned the television off only to hear laughter coming from behind him. Matt stiffened and didn't turn around.

"Ya act like you've never seen a TV before!" The voice laughed out, Matt could tell he was eating.

"I-it's been a while." Matt responded, his voice barely at a whisper. The loud man behind him asked for him to speak up so Matt repeated himself a bit louder.

The man walked over and plopped himself down on the couch, "You've been living on the streets long?" He took the remote from Matt and pat him on the head, messing up his hair more than it previously was after his night's sleep.

Being pat on the head made the memories of last night flood back. This man had asked him to his pet. His pet! Like he was a dog or something! Who did he think he was, treating people like animals!

Matt had refused his offer and tried to get away but the man just followed him down the street. He offered to give Matt shelter if he didn't mind cooking or cleaning a bit, if he knew how to that is because if not then he could just hire a housekeeper. Matt remembered that he just kept talking and wouldn't stop no matter how much he tried to interject.

He had asked him to be a pet because he said pets were more loyal than people and that dogs were awesome but he couldn't have one in his apartment. Matt frowned. His homelessness puts him on the same level as dogs now? Oh, cruel world.

Before Matt realized it, the man wasn't following him but he was following the man instead. He led him to his apartment, saying he lived in the penthouse suite and he had the stupidest grin on his face, like Matt was supposed to be impressed by this. Matt figured all his money went towards rent and that's why he ate at McDonald's.

C'mon, what do you say? He asked in this tone that suited little boys better than him. How could he afford this, Matt though, he couldn't be more than eighteen at most. Maybe his parents bought it to make up for something. He knew something about absent parents.

The memory got a bit fuzzy then. He remembered telling the man to shove off, and he remembered trying to storm away. The man said his name was Al something or other, and he grabbed his arm to stop him. He didn't realize how small Matt was hiding behind that oversized sweatshirt and Matt had been pulled to harshly. He fell. Hit his head. Then he woke up here.

Matt felt the side of his head. It was tender and he wondered how he didn't notice that when he woke up. He turned and faced the man, Al something or other.

"I'm not your pet." He muttered softly.

He got a smile and a hamburger in his face in return, "At least stay for breakfast!"


End file.
